Why Have I Become Detached

Pita Amor
Mexican
1918 – 2000

 

Why have I become detached from the
mysterious and eternal current that I was
cast into, to forever be enslaved
by this tenacious and independent frame?

Why did I become a living being
that carries blood made of lava
and a dark anguish excavated from
knowing that my audacity is powerless?

Thinking of my matter
considering myself absurd and numb,
masqueraded by solitude and by misery,

ludicrous creature of disregard,
a worthless mask from a pointless carnival
and an echo that doesn’t proceed sound!

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